BLIND SPOT THREE
by Patcat
Summary: Some more missing scenesafter Alex leaves the hospital.


BLIND SPOT 3 Missing Scenes

Alex took a deep breath and stepped from the car. Her father reached to help her; Alex gave him a warning look.

"Lexie," he said patiently. "You don't want to hurt anything…just take it easy…"

She grudgingly allowed him to help her from the car and up the steps. She steeled herself as the door to her house opened. It looked very much as it had two weeks before. The bird cage was gone (no one had ever found the bird, and Alex wondered if it had died or simply found a home where it actually got some attention), as were the blood stains or any signs of a struggle. As Alex stared at the living room she realized that it reflected very little of the person she was now. Her father took her lack of sound and movement for fear.

"Lexie? Are you ok? You know you don't have to do this…"

She shook her head. "I…I'm fine…and yes, I do have to do this."

She walked through the house, carefully examining the rooms. She noted that the main bathroom—her bathroom—now had a shower door rather than a curtain. She paused to look at it for several moments.

"Bobby," her father said quietly. "He suggested that…He also suggested replacing the curtains in your bedroom with blinds…He said he'd change them back and you could scream at him if you didn't like them…"

"I'd been thinking about changing them," Alex said sadly. "It was kind of him to think about those…" She stood for a moment.

"He said you should be with your family for this," her father said as he read her mind. He stood leaning against the doorway in her bedroom. "Just can't convince that boy that he's part of the family…I don't think he knew you were going to insist on doing this alone."

Alex glanced at her father as she walked into the kitchen. The refrigerator and cabinets were full; the floor and countertops shone.

"I don't think the place has ever been so clean and well stocked," Alex said wryly.

"Your brothers and sisters and in-laws," Mr. Eames said. "And your partner." He walked to the door leading to the garage and opened it. "Bobby and his friend Lewis brought this."

Alex stepped forward and saw a bright cherry red 1960s Mustang; her jaw dropped.

"Bobby said since you needed a car it might as well be one you'd have fun driving." Mr. Eames smiled. "I got the impression that his friend Lewis has a bit of a crush on you."

"I can't…can't accept this…" Alex spluttered.

"They made clear it's a loan," her father said. "Although they were pretty vague about when it was due."

Alex turned away so that her father wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Her family and Bobby had managed to deal with nearly all of her worries about coming home from the hospital.

"You have a good partner…a good friend," Mr. Eames said quietly.

"Yea," Alex managed.

"At the hospital…whenever one of us wasn't there, he was," her father continued. "But he wouldn't stay if one of us was there…said he didn't want to intrude."

Alex turned to admire one of the several bouquets of flowers that dotted the house. They all contained her favorites; she fingered the petals.

"Bobby again?" she asked.

Her father nodded.

"He…he blames himself," she said. "He doesn't understand why you haven't banned him from getting near me."

"That boy," Mr. Eames said. "He's got to start realizing he's not responsible for everything…"

"That "boy"," Alex laughed. "Is older than most of your kids…and you've never stopped trying to save the world…Why should he?"

Mr. Eames smiled. "Well, at least small parts of it…and I guess my middle daughter is going to do the same…"

He attempted to convince her that she didn't have to spend the night at the house, that someone should stay with her, or that she should at least let her parents provide dinner. Alex quietly and stubbornly held her ground.

"I gotta do this sometime…It might as well be now," she said.

Her father extracted a promise that she would call if she needed anything. Her resolve crumbled slightly when her father hugged her goodbye, but when he asked for the one hundredth time if she would be all right, Alex insisted she was and would be fine.

"You'll call if you need anything?" Mr. Eames shouted as he got in his car.

"Yes," Alex answered from the doorway, but, as she watched her father drive away, she knew there was only one person she wanted.

Bobby stared at the crime scene photos and turned to one of the files spread across the interview room table. The details from both moved together, and Bobby allowed a small, satisfied smile to cross his face. He noted the details and his conclusions, collected the files and photos, and headed towards Captain Ross' office. He quietly explained his conclusions to Ross and the new ADA (although he missed Carver, Bobby appreciated that the young woman would at least hear his theories before ripping them to shreds), and returned to his desk. In the past two weeks, Ross employed Bobby as a utility infielder, using him to back up other detectives, interview suspects and witnesses, and even check on older cases. Bobby performed the work willingly and well, grateful that Ross appeared to be granting him more trust and that the work occupied his mind.

Declan Gage had attempted to contact Bobby several times in the days following Jo's arrest. Jo was undergoing psychiatric evaluation, and, as Bobby predicted, it appeared she would not be going to trial. As Jo predicted, she now possessed her father's undivided attention. Bobby heard occasional rumors of difficult sessions between the father and daughter, but as much as he could, he washed his hands of the case. He ignored Gage's phone calls and email until the older man confronted Bobby in the hospital parking lot.

"Bobby…you have to…" Gage began.

"No," Bobby said stepping past Gage and heading determinedly to the door. "I don't have to do anything…"

"If the case goes to trial…Eames will have to testify…I'll tell the defense…"

Bobby heard the desperate threat and spun to face Gage. "You hurt her any more…you try to hurt her…I'll let everyone know what you did…how you manipulated Jo…what you did to her…how you tried to manipulate me…" Bobby's voice was cold and low.

Gage reeled back. "Bobby…you couldn't…you wouldn't…"

"I never thought that you could or would threaten a victim," Bobby said quietly. Without looking back, he left Gage in the parking lot; he hadn't heard from the older man since.

Ross appeared at his desk. "Your partner is getting out of the hospital today?"

"Yes, sir." Bobby was enormously grateful that Ross had offered no sign that he considered splitting up Bobby and Alex.

"Good…she should be back in a week or so." Ross studied Bobby. "That is, if she's ready."

"I think she'll be ready," Bobby answered the implied question. "She's probably ready now." He smiled wryly. "But I'm not the most objective person."

A smile played at the corner of Ross' mouth. "I'll take that under consideration…but your assessment jives with the doctors for the most part…Are you going to see her?"

"Tomorrow…I thought she should have some time with her family and to settle in," Bobby said.

"Good…I'd like you to take on a case or two this week…you can bring Eames up to speed when she gets back," Ross said.

"Yes, sir," Bobby replied. As Ross left, Bobby realized that Alex should be at home. "I…should I call her?" He twirled his pen as he thought. "No…she's with her family…Give her some time…"

As Bobby gathered his binder and stood to leave, Mike Logan called to him. "Hey, Goren, when does your partner get back?"

"Soon," Bobby answered. "In a week or so."

"Good," Logan grinned. "Maybe you'll start doing some real work."

Bobby smiled and waved as he left the office.

In his apartment he stared into the barren wastes of his refrigerator and tried to decide whether to go to the grocery, go out, or order in. His cell phone rang.

"Rats," Bobby muttered. "Probably a call out…"

Picking up the phone, he saw with a shock that the call was from Declan Gage. The phone had nearly switched to voice mail when Bobby, dread weighing in his stomach, answered.

"Goren." He made his voice as coldly professional as he could.

"Bobby." There was a desperate edge to Gage's voice. "Please…don't hang up…please…"

Bobby wavered. Nothing good, he thought, could come of talking with Gage. But the man had been his friend, his mentor, had found a place for Bobby when the younger man thought he'd never have one, and had recognized talents Bobby didn't realize he possessed.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, trying to keep his voice as calm and professional as possible.

"Jo's attorney…won't let me see her. She says it's disruptive…that it hurts Jo…hurts the case…"

Bobby sighed. "I can't do anything about that…you know that…"

"You can talk to her attorney…"

"I'm the lead detective," Bobby said wearily. "The suspect tortured and planned to kill my partner…I don't think the defense attorney will be inclined to listen to me…"

"The ADA then," Gage said desperately. "I have to see her…"

"Why?" Bobby's voice betrayed some of his anger. "Because you're her father? Or because you have to figure her out? Or because you've already figured her out and you're afraid others will know what you did…what you missed…"

"Bobby…listen to me…the two of us dealing with the first female serial killer…your reputation will be made…"

Bobby laughed bitterly. "Reputation? Damn it, you know nothing about me…I'm spent my whole life trying not to have a reputation…I just want to do the work…"

"Bobby…please…I have to talk to her…I have to know why…"

"You know why," Bobby said. "To get your attention…and now that she's got it…she's going to control it as much as she can…" He heard Gage gasp. "Talk about my skills eroding…Haven't you kept up with the literature? The cases? Jo's not the first female serial killer…Hell, I've been dealing with a possible one for five years…"

"You owe me, Bobby, you owe me…"

"Owe you!" Bobby's rage rose. "I owe you less than I owe my father…He never pretended to care about me and then use me…He didn't try to get my partner…my best friend…to get me to forget her…to believe she was dead…" Bobby struggled not to break down.

"Bobby…"

"No!" Bobby screamed in the phone. "No! I never want to hear from you again…Never!" He slammed the phone shut and threw it flying across the room. He stood trembling for several moments.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "I gotta…Alex…if I could only talk to Alex…but I can't."

He grabbed his wallet and keys; he hesitated, but finally retrieved his cell phone and pocketed it. He rushed out into the growing darkness of the night. He wasn't sure where or how long he walked. At one point he stopped for a cup of coffee at a diner and watched as people passed by the windows.

"You ok, mister?" the young waitress asked as she filled his cup. "You look worn out."

"Uh, yea…just work…you know?" Bobby waved her concern away with his hand.

He left the diner and resumed his restless walk. He arrived at a riverside park and sat on one of the benches. He stared at the water and realized it was very late. "Alex," he thought. "If I could only…"

The ring of his cell phone jolted him out of his thoughts. "Damn," he thought. "Please…not Gage again…" He flipped open the phone and saw Alex's number.

"Alex," he breathed.

"Bobby…B-bobby…please…" He could hear her struggling not to cry.

He stood. "Alex…Are you all right? What do you need?" He began walking quickly to the street.

"I…please…please…Bobby…"

He looked desperately for a cab. "Alex…I'll be there as soon as I can…you're at home, right?"

"Yes…yes…I'm sorry…Bobby." Her voice sounded marginally calmer. "It's so late…"

"It's ok," Bobby said. A cab miraculously appeared in the distance and Bobby waved frantically at it. "I…I wasn't sleeping…I wasn't even in my apartment."

"Prowling the Manhattan streets, Goren?" Her voice was almost back to normal.

"Yea…so I might as well prowl the streets of Rockaway Beach," Bobby said. He could hear the fear and tension easing from Alex's voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can." The cab was pulling up. "Do you want to keep talking?"

"No…I'll be ok…thank you…thank you…" There was a tinge of embarrassment to her voice.

Bobby slipped into the cab. "You call me if you need me before I get there…Just call."

It required some persuasion and the promise of covering the fare to and back from Rockaway Beach to convince the cabbie to drive the long distance at such a late hour. Bobby sealed the deal by pulling out his badge and ID. He hated to get any special treatment because he was a cop, but this was for Alex.

"You'll talk us out of a ticket, right?" the cabbie asked as he glanced at Bobby in the rear view mirror.

Bobby smiled. "You bet…I should have some pull…I'm a detective first grade."

They arrived, in record time and one piece, at Alex's house. Bobby happily threw most of the contents of his wallet at the cabbie and rushed up the steps. The house blazed with lights, but Bobby saw no sign of Alex. He took a deep breath as he stood in front of the door.

"Please," he prayed. "Please let me do the right thing…Please help me help her…"

Before he could knock on the door, he saw Alex's face at the small window in the door. He heard her unbolt several locks, and the door swung open to reveal Alex. In spite of the warm night, she wore grey sweatpants and a NYPD sweatshirt that were at least two sizes too big for her. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted.

"Hey," she said trying to keep her voice from quivering. "C'mon in."

As soon as Bobby entered, she relocked all of the locks. As she turned, her eyes met Bobby's.

"I know," she said, her eyes falling. "I know what the lights and all the locks mean…" She fought to keep from shivering. "I'm sorry, Bobby…I" She walked into the living room. Bobby followed her cautiously and carefully, partly out of a fear of scaring her, partly out of respect for her home. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been in her house; his apartment, tiny as it was, was more convenient for quick changes, hurried meals, and brief naps.

"You want something?" Alex stood with her arms wrapped around her. "The fridge and all the cabinets are full…"

Bobby uncertainly watched her. "I…I'm fine, Alex…Thank you…"

"And thank you and Lewis for the car…" She started to pace.

"Alex." Bobby kept his voice as calm and even as he could. "Please…talk to me…"

"I…I'm sorry…make you drive all this way…in the middle of the night…but I…didn't want to call my family…" She raised tear filled eyes to him. "I…I wanted you…"

He covered the space between them in a giant stride. He hesitated for a moment until she choked on a sob, and then wrapped his arms around her. She nearly collapsed in his arms, and he guided her to the couch. He sat, pulling her down with him. She fought against the tears for a moment, and finally began to cry.

Bobby rubbed her back and held her. "It's…" He thought that to tell her everything was ok when it obviously wasn't would be terribly cruel. "I'm here, Alex…I'm here…"

"But…you weren't…when she came…" His chest muffled her voice, but he heard her words clearly. They struck him harder than any blow could, and he winced.

"I'm sorry," Alex said, her tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry…That wasn't fair…Bobby…Please…forgive me…"

"Don't worry…I've been kicking myself a lot during these past two weeks." He rested his chin on her head. "Tell me…what happened? What brought all of this on?"

"I…I was ok." She struggled to control her tears. "I dealt with the bills, the mail…checked my email…good grief, the junk…I admired the Mustang and thought about taking it for a ride." Talking appeared to help her. "I fixed some dinner."

"Your family?" Bobby asked.

"I…I didn't want a crowd…I…My Dad…just my Dad brought me home…I thought I could…"

"Tough it out?"

She nodded. "And I was ok…really…until I started to go to bed. I kept checking…checking all the doors and windows…I heard things…that weren't there…" The tears threatened to return. "Oh, Bobby…Bobby…how am I going to be able…to go back to work…if I can't even sleep?"

"It'll get better," he said gently. "Just give it time…Your head needs to heal as much as your body…"

"I…I didn't know who to call…who'd understand…except for you…" She clung to his shirt.

"Like I said." Bobby softly stroked her hair. "I wasn't asleep…I wasn't even in my apartment…"

"You got monsters chasing you, too?"

Bobby sighed. "Yea…we're old buddies."

"I'm so tired…but I'm afraid…" she whispered.

"I tell you what…I'm going to get you some water, ok?" He gently slipped from her arms and stood. As he walked away, Alex saw the exhaustion flowing from his body.

He returned a few minutes later carrying a large glass of cold water. Alex drank it quickly and gratefully, letting the cold liquid soothe her throat.

"Can I get you anything else?" Bobby asked.

"No…thank you." She studied him as she handed him the empty glass. He looked completely exhausted; even his bones seemed to sag. But everything he said and did calmed and soothed her. "But," she thought. "He's had a lot of experience dealing with hysterical people…"

"Bobby," Alex said. "I…I think I'm ok now…you…you probably have to work tomorrow and it's already late…"

He smiled at her. "Here." Bobby extended a hand to her. "Let me help you up." Her body surprised her by its weakness.

"I'm sorry," she said again as she leaned against him for strength.

"Think you could manage a shower? That might help you some…"

She nodded, and he followed her to her bathroom.

"Just toss your clothes out and I'll hang them in the laundry room. Do you have pajamas or something?"

She marveled again at his kindness.

"I…I usually wear one of my brothers or Dad's old shirts," Alex said hesitantly.

"I'll find one and put it inside the bathroom, ok?" He smiled at her, and Alex felt warm and safe.

"Ok," she said. "But," she added in a voice that failed to betray her nerves. "No peaking."

Bobby grinned at her. "Promise," he said crossing his heart.

The shower's cool water washed away her tears and sweat and fears. Alex stepped from the shower and saw a grey NYPD T-shirt on the sink counter. She dried her body, slipped the T-shirt on, ran a comb through her hair, and brushed her teeth.

"Ok," she thought. "Maybe I can rush across the room and dive under the covers."

The thought of facing Bobby in only a T-shirt—even a T-shirt three sizes too big for her—suddenly made Alex uneasy. She opened the bathroom door slowly and cautiously.

The bed's covers were turned down; a glass with ice and an amber colored liquid sat on the bedside table. Bobby, sitting in the large, overstuffed chair Alex had inherited from her father, was looking intently at a book.

"Oh," Alex thought. "He looks so tired…and hurt…" She took a deep breath and scuttled over to the bed.

She almost made it under the sheet, but Bobby caught a glimpse of her bare legs and feet.

"You ok?" he asked with a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Uh, yea…fine." He seemed unconvinced by her words, but didn't press the issue.

"I brought you some iced tea…decaf."

"Lots of sugar?" She lifted the glass eagerly.

He smiled. "Of course."

It was cold and sweet and wonderful, and she drank it as quickly and eagerly as she had the cold water earlier.

"Thank you." She yawned. "Ok, did you put something in it to get me to sleep?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, but speaking of sleep and meds…have you taken yours?"

"Yea…earlier," Alex said as she settled back against her pillows. Sleep was winning the battle in her head.

"Go to sleep," Bobby said gently. "I'll be here…"

She wanted to thank him, to tell him how much his acts of kindness meant to her, how none of what had happened to her was his fault, but sleep overwhelmed her. "Ok," she murmured as she tumbled into sleep.

As soon as she appeared to be asleep, Bobby rose and cautiously approached her bed. He pulled the sheet up and around her; she didn't stir. Her blonde hair spun around her head on her pillow; her skin was as delicate and clear as porcelain.

"Thank you," Bobby whispered. "Thank you for bringing her back to me…Thank you for her."

He moved back to the chair. He set the alarm on his cell phone, placed it on the table next to the chair, and turned off the lamp. He sat watching the light paint soft, pale yellow patterns on her face until he fell asleep.

She was in that awful place again; she could smell blood, hear someone struggling not to scream. But there was no agonizing pain in her arms, no blindfold, no gag. In front of her she saw Bobby, his hands bound, his eyes blindfolded, hanging from a pipe. Blood streamed down his arms and spotted his head. He was clearly in great pain, but struggling desperately not to cry out. Wielding a pair of jagged scissors, Declan Gage stood beside Bobby.

"Scream," Gage said in a calm, flat voice. "Scream so your partner will hear you…"

"Bobby! No! No!" Alex tried to wave her arms, but something was holding her.

"Alex…it's me…I'm here…You're ok…You're in your bedroom…You're safe."

Alex realized it was Bobby who restrained her. His voice was soft, warm, and gentle. She grabbed one of his arms.

"B…but are you safe?" she murmured.

"Of course…Alex…It was just a dream…You're ok…I swear…I'm right here…Nothing will hurt you…" His hand made soft circles on her back.

"But…what about you? Who'll keep you safe?"

Bobby's sleep befuddled mind tried to understand Alex's words. Her screams jolted him out of a sleep plagued by Declan and Jo Gage and images of an imprisoned and tortured Alex. He guessed she was calling for him to save her, but she spoke as if he was in danger.

"Alex…What are you talking about? Why are you worried about me?"

She stared up at him with wild, terrified eyes. Bobby rarely saw Alex scared, and he did not like it.

"Talk to me, Alex," he said gently. "Fears we don't talk about are much worse than the ones we do." His voice wavered. "I know…"

She pulled hesitantly away from him. "I…I had a dream…"

He sat on the edge of the bed; he pulled her pillows up so that she could rest against them.

"Was it about…when Jo had you?" His voice was calm, but Alex sensed how much the effort cost him.

"No…I mean…" She bit her lip. "I was back there…in that awful place…but…"

Bobby held her hand; his thumb gently caressed its back.

"It…wasn't Jo…I wasn't being tortured…"

He looked at her with some surprise.

"You," she whispered. "It was you…you were tied up and hanging and blindfolded…like I was…you were bleeding and in awful pain…and it was Declan Gage…He wanted you to scream…so I would hear you…"

Bobby jerked his hand away from hers and jumped to his feet. He stared down at her.

"Bobby…please…don't leave…I don't know why…Please don't go…" She reached for him and winced when her arms protested.

Bobby was at her side the moment he heard her small cry of pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered; he tentatively put an arm around her. "It…I got scared…but it's just a dream…"

Alex moved closer to him. "An awful dream," she whispered. She shivered.

"You can let go, you know," Bobby told her. He brushed her hair with his lips. "I saw some of your nightmares in the hospital…Please, Alex…you can use me…Please…I'm here…You don't have to pretend…

He cautiously wrapped his other arm around her. Alex shook and finally collapsed in his arms.

"Oh, God…Bobby…Bobby…" she sobbed. "I…I came to…in the trunk…I was gagged and blindfolded…I felt so sick…I was afraid I'd throw up and choke…" She clung to him so tightly he felt bruises forming on his arms. "I didn't want to die that way…I tried to get loose…but I couldn't…I tried to escape…I kept looking for a way…"

"Of course you did," Bobby whispered. He'd read Alex's statement, but hearing her description was another form of terror.

Alex gasped. "Oh, God, it must have been awful for you, Bobby."

He hugged her. "Not in the same galaxy as it was for you."

She shivered against him. "That poor girl…hearing her all night…and then the silence after…and I couldn't do anything…And knowing what was going to happen to me…But I remembered what you told me about the Sebastian case…That he enjoyed his victim's screams…I thought it might save her and me…so I stayed quiet…You saved me, Bobby."

"No…no…you did it." His voice was soft and husky. "She underestimated you…everything about you."

Alex had regained some control. "Well, you gave me the tools."

"I never taught you how to run and climb in heels that size," Bobby said shakily. "Pretty tough."

She nestled into his arms; she felt warm and safe. "You had monsters tonight, too?"

"Uh…yea." He liked the way she felt in his arms. He took a deep breath. "Gage…he's been calling me about the case…it's…"

"He's been torturing you," Alex said angrily.

"I…I don't think he'll contact me again," Bobby said faintly.

"He didn't know…doesn't know you any more than Jo knew me," Alex said. "And it saved us."

"Yes…yes." Her skin was soft to his touch; her hair like silk. She smelled of lavender and sweet tea. "Oh, Alex…I've never had such horrible days…The thought…that you might…that you might be…hurt…like those others…" He trembled and Alex hugged him. "But I knew…maybe it was just demented thinking…but I knew you weren't dead…even when Gage…and everything said you were…I knew you were alive…" Bobby buried his head in Alex's hair.

They remained huddled together for several minutes, neither really crying, but neither able to speak. They needed the physical touch to remind each other that they were alive and with each other.

Bobby suddenly realized that he was sitting on Alex's bed and embracing her. "Alex," he whispered with some embarrassment. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…invade…your room…uh…your bed…" He tried to pull away from her but she clung to him.

"No…don't go…You're not invading…please…I want you here…"

He struggled for a moment. "Ok," he said. "But I'm sure we're violating some NYPD regulation…"

"You," Alex said with a weak smile. "Live to violate regulations." She shivered. "I'm sorry, Bobby…I…I just need you…here…"

"Who am I," Bobby said gently. "To deny such a request?" He slipped off his shoes and socks and hesitated.

"It's ok," Alex said softly. "If you want to take some things off…"

"It's just," Bobby said as he shed his pants. "It's a little warm and…" He unbuttoned and dropped his shirt to join his other clothes. "I don't usually sleep in my clothes…at least not when I'm not sleeping in a chair…" Wearing his T-shirt and boxers, he slipped under the sheet.

"I think," he said. "Your bed is even bigger than mine…"

Alex lay on her side and looked at him. "It's a relic of my marriage." She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. "Like most of this house."

Bobby turned on his side to face her.

"When I came in today…It felt so strange."

"You know," Bobby said. "That's normal…someone invaded your home…"

"That's not it." Alex turned her head to look at him. She could just make out his dark eyes in the soft light from the bedside table's lamp. "I realized this place wasn't really home…It's where I sleep and keep my stuff…but the office…your apartment…" She blinked. "They're more of a home than here."

Bobby longed to touch her, to hold her, but separated from her by only a few inches, he felt a huge gulf between them.

"It's as if," she said. "What happened…It let me know…This house…a lot of the stuff in it…belong to an Alex that doesn't exist…This house belongs to the Alex that married Joe and planned a very different life…I don't think I know her…I don't think I'd like her…" She threw an arm across her eyes. "Oh, Bobby…I feel…I feel…so lost."

His hand brushed against her cheek. "What," he whispered in a voice he barely recognized. "What do you want me to do?"

"Could you…please…spoon me?"

"Of course."

She turned her back to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt his warm breath on her hair; he breathed in her scents. He wondered at her soft skin; she luxuriated in his strength. For a few hours, at least, they would drive away each other's demons and share the refuge of sleep.

END


End file.
